


7 Minutes in Heaven: Avengers Edition

by GeniusBillionarePlayboyPhilanthropist



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Antman bitch!, Choose Your Own Ending, F/M, It's pretty sappy, Mature-ish, Maybe - Freeform, POV First Person, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Rating May Change, Re-post of previously published work, Reader-Insert, Romance, Science Bros, Telekinetic Reader, Vision is just there for Wanda, there probably wont be a Vision/reader chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeniusBillionarePlayboyPhilanthropist/pseuds/GeniusBillionarePlayboyPhilanthropist
Summary: This is a new and improved version of a work that was previously posted on this site. After a huge computer crash (and the loss of countless chapters/one-shots/poetry/so on...) I am back with a better version of my work. This is still first person POV, so if that isn't your cup of tea, then don't bother with this. Or give it a try! You never know.I had previously said that there would be no F/F because I have no clue how to write that interaction. However, if I can figure how to write something F/F and I actually like the way it sounds, I may consider updating the relationship tags with a Natasha and Wanda pairing. It's not a promise, but I'll give it another go.Smut is... Tentative. Maybe follow up chapters...





	1. A Night of Drunken Games

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read the previous version of this and are returning for the updated one, then welcome back! The chapters as a whole are not completely different, but you might spot some significant changes in dialogue and/or actions of the characters. If you have not read the previous version, then thank you for choosing to read my story!
> 
> 6-29-18  
> I have since taken the previous version down, as the final chapter (Bird of Prey) from it has been posted.

It had been a long day at the Avengers Tower, and somehow all of the Avengers, oldand new, had come to relax in the lounge after one of Tony’s parties. With a roomful ofrelatively tipsy and rather suggestible people (with the exception of Steve, Bucky, andPietro) Tony and Scott decided that it would be a great idea to play a party game.Unfortunately, both of them are decidedly fifteen years old when drunk.

“Hey guys! We should play seven minutes in heaven!” Tony yelled out suddenly, almostspilling his drink on Natasha who practically hisses at him. My drunkenness gives wayto a fit of unreserved giggles before I say, “I don’t think that would work out very well Tony. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there are only four girls here, Nat, Wanda, me,and you!” Laughter echoes throughout the room, earning me a playful glare from Tony. “Nevertheless! We must uphold the ancient tradition of drunk parties with a teenageparty game!” The laughter eventually dies down as each of my friends (and even Loki surprisingly, though he sits in the corner like a recluse and is not quite as drunk as the rest of us) agrees to the game with a little prompting from the rest of us to get Bucky, Bruce, and Vision to join. 

"How is the game played?" Thor asks, his speech only slightly slurred from his weird Asgardian alcohol. (He let me try it once. I was out for two whole days.) Sam speaks up for the first time, "Basically you put an item in a bag or something similar. If your item is drawn, then you go into the closet with the person who drew it. Teenagers play it in order to get some." This causes both Steve and Thor to furrow their eyebrows in confusion. I can't help the cackle of laughter that leaves me, "'Get some.' Of course. What Sam means is that kids use it as an excuse to make out with each other." Steve's face blushes in embarrassment while Thor and Vision look genuinely interested in playing. Even Bucky lets out a little chuckle.

Tony goes around with a bag and each of us puts in one of their possessions, my own being my old X-Men crest. Oh, it should be mentioned that I am actually part of the teamand not just a secretary for Tony. For some reason people mistake me for one all the time. I amactually a telekinetic. Just that though, no telepathy or anything cool like Wanda’s mindreading voodoo. She and Pietro are the awesome mutants in the group, but I don’t really mind it so much. Instead of being upset about it, I use my telekinetic ability to pull the scotchcloser to me so I can pour myself another drink.

Without thinking about my next question, I take a sip of my scotch and ask, “Any specific rules?” Immediately,Scott shouts, “Anything goes!” Wanda, Nat, and I all simultaneously groan, and the other two glare at me, Wanda mentally telling me,  _you just had to ask…_ I scowl at her and turn back to Tony. “Fine, but all of us have the right to leave if we feel too uncomfortable.” Tony and Scott sigh, but my terms are agreed upon.

“So who wants to go first?” Tony waves the bag around, “How about you (Y/N)?” Hesays, turning to me and holding the bag out. I sigh at him, “Fine.” I feel a childish hopethat I get  _them_ and reach inside…


	2. Lean Green Mean Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is about 38 years old in this chapter, confident and a bit cocky. She and Bruce are about the same height.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is up first. (I'll be changing the age, height, and personality in each chapter depending on the love interest) This will still probably be the shortest chapter as Banner has never been my personal favorite. It's good though I promise ^_^

I feel around the bag praying I don’t get Tony… or Scott… and definitely not Loki, whenmy fingers feel something rubbery. Instantly curious, I pull out the item, revealing a smallHulk key chain. I hold up the accessory and start to laugh so hard tears come to myeyes.

“Bruce, please don’t tell me you have a key chain of yourself!” His face turns a lightshade of red as others join in on my laughter, but he doesn’t get a chance to respondbefore Tony is dragging us towards the closet. He slams the door behinds us, “Have funkids!”

I still have humorous tears in my eyes when we finally settle into the dark closet, only afew slivers of light shining through the cracks around the door. He rubs the back of hisneck nervously. “Tony gave the key chain to me. I swear I’d never buy something likethat for myself, but he and Scott like to mess with me and I just keep it to shut them upbecause they can be…” My eyes roll in a full circle before I rush forward to kiss him.

My body presses his against the wall, his arms at his sides in shock and his lips not fullyreacting to what I’ve just done. After a few seconds, his mind seems to catch up. Largehands move to my waist and he tilts his head for a better angle, deepening the kiss.

One of my hands threads through his soft hair (I knew it was soft, as I spend a lot oftime sitting on his lab desk running my fingers through it, which usually earns me atleast one unconvincing scolding and a playful attempt at stopping me), while the otherbegins to creep under the bottom of his shirt. Before I get very far though, he suddenlypushes me away.

“Wait, wait.” He says quickly, and I try to hide the hurt I’m feeling. “It’s not that I don’t likeyou, I definitely do, and the other guy seems to as well.” An anxious look crosses hisface as Bruce rubs the back of his head again and he sighs, “I never wanted this tohappen in a stupid game.” My eyes widen, and in the dull light I can barely see his faceturning a dark shade of red.

A slow smile crosses my face, “So you did want to kiss me?” Though his eyes try to lookeverywhere but at mine, a small nod confirms it. I almost cry out my relief, “Thank God. Iwas about to feel really bad about making a jackass of myself.” A chuckle escapes him,and small grin graces his handsome features. I lift my hands to his face, and I feel hishands take hold of my sides again.

He allows his thumbs to slowly rub circles just above my hip bones, and I take it as aninvitation. Closing the gap between us again, I kiss my way up his jaw before whisperingin his ear, “I’ve been dropping hints forever.” I hear him clear his throat, a strangled“Oh?” escaping his lips as I move my attention to his neck. I hum my confirmation, hishands holding just a little tighter. A smirk creeps onto my face as I feel his obviousarousal just above my own.

We cease conversation as I start to move my hands back underneath his shirt. I’mpleasantly surprised to find more than a little hard muscle greeting me. “Damn. You’vebeen holding out on me Doctor. Here I was thinking you were all brain and no brawn,Hulk not included.” I pull back and bite the corner of my lip, Bruce’s dark eyes settling onmine. “Promise to show me more later?” Bright green sharply contrasts the darkness ofhis eyes for just a second, making me shudder in anticipation.

Suddenly the door pulls open, and the bright light blinds me for a moment. Damn, Iforgot that we were actually still playing a game. I blink a couple of times to clear myvision, and see Tony and Scott standing at the door holding their phones up and takingpictures. I realize I’m still pressing Bruce to the wall.

“Well, I see who will be wearing the pants in this relationship.” Tony whispersnot-so-quietly to Scott, making both of them snicker. I push away from Bruce lightly.Straight faced and emotionless, I use my telekinetic power to wrench Tony’s phone from his hand andsmash it against the floor.

I lean down to grab his smashed phone from the floor, smirking as I look up to see himhiding behind Scott. “Well, I can see who does in yours.” I hand him his phone. “Youknow, I like you less when you’re angry.” Scott says playfully, making Bruce genuinelylaugh. “A woman after my own heart.” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me either. Igrab Bruce’s hand and lead him away from his science bros.


	3. Speeding is Illegal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is between 22-26. A bit confused when it comes to feelings, she can be a bit awkward when faced with intimacy, especially with her crush. She is between 4-5 inches shorter than Pietro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Russian for Pietro's personal comments. Translation and pronunciation in the end notes!

My fingers brush over something metal, but delicate. I lightly grasp the item and pull itout of the bag. Immediately, Tony gasps exaggeratedly, grabbing the glasses from me,“Speedy! You don’t just throw a two-hundred dollar pair of custom sunglasses into abag!” I feel the color draining from my face, realizing who I’ve just chosen as Tonycontinues on to lecture the silver haired speedster about the proper care of saidglasses. 

“This is why I don’t give gifts…” The billionaire sighs in resignation. I just stare at Pietroas he rises from his seat and carefully grabs his sunglasses from Tony, before throwingthem to Wanda, earning another glare from our landlord.

The Sokovian shoots me a playful grin before disappearing in a silver flash into thecloset. Noticing my lack of motivation to follow, Clint smirks mischievously at me. “I’mpretty sure you’re both supposed to be in the closet for the game to work, (Y/N).” Damnhim. Clint has known about my crush on Pietro since he caught me staring at the silver speedster a couple of weeks after I joined the team. Being my best friend, he just had togive me shit about it.

I get up from my seat and start walking towards the closet, covertly shooting Clint asideways glare as I pass by. “If he’s as fast as he claims, he can get a lot done in sevenminutes!” Tony shouts crudely behind me, and I flip him the bird praying that Pietrodidn’t hear that.

Closing the door behind me, I am quickly made aware of just how small this closet reallyis when I feel Pietro’s warm body on my back. “He is right you know.” I can almost hearthe smirk in his voice, “I can get a lot done in seven minutes.” It becomes increasinglydifficult to think as one of his hands goes to my side while the other lightly brushes aloose section of hair behind my ear.

My voice is finally able to choke out the first thing that crosses my mind, “Speeding isillegal you know.” I had perhaps meant that as a sad attempt at deflective humor, but itcame out a little too high pitched to be funny. Pietro’s chest vibrates on my back as hechuckles, “I do not mind going slow for you.”

That Sokovian accent raises goosebumps on my skin, but I practically turn into a puddleon the floor when I feel his lips on my neck. The hand in my hair lightly tugs my head tothe side to grant him better access, and I can’t suppress the moan that escapes me. Myhands begin to move of their own accord, one settles on the side of his face and one inhis white-grey hair (What can I say? I have a bit of a hair kink.). Pietro’s hand pullsmy hair back a little harder this time, allowing him access to my lips as he kisses me.

When I feel his hand on the buttons of my jeans, I suddenly come to my senses again. Ipull away from the kiss, releasing my hold on him and trying to put a bit of spacebetween us while turning towards him. Pietro’s icy blue eyes instantly fill with concern,but I interrupt him before he can talk.

“I’m… sorry, Pietro.” My own eyes are cast downward to my hands where they rest onhis chest. “I just… I don’t want this to mean nothing to you. Because if it means nothingthen I’m not sure I can do,” I wave my hands between us, floundering for words andultimately failing, “whatever you’re hoping for here.”

Slightly rough hands hold my cheeks as Pietro lifts my eyes to his again. A sweet smile and a kiss to the tip of my nose draws my attention back to him. “ Принцесса, what if I told you that it does mean something?” His thumbs gently smooth circles on mycheekbones. “My sister always told me I was bad at expressing myself.”

Pietro’s eyes are soft, honest, and a little worried. Maybe… Maybe I wasn’t the only onewith a crush? “I’d have to ask you to prove it.” I smirk teasingly. In less than second, hislips crash to mine once more. “Ты не представляешь, как я хочу тебя, принцесса.”His breathless voice is rough and low as he mutters in Sokovian against my lips. I haveno idea what he said, but it successfully turned my legs into jelly and my knees almostgive out. “You keep that up and I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you,Speedy.”

The door suddenly opens behind me and I stumble a bit, not even having realized that Iwas pressed against it before. “Nothing!” I loudly stutter out, mentally slapping myself atmy graceful handle of awkward situations. Clint cough behind me, and I turn to see theshit eating grin on his face. “Yeah yeah, I know you told me so.”

“I so did too.” The archer snickers. It is only then I realize that Wanda is standing next tohim. Pietro huffs, making his sister roll her eyes. “Well, I did tell you too. I am just gladthat you finally took my advice.” My eyebrows shoot up and I feel a satisfied grin on myface. I definitely wasn’t the only one with a crush.

“It’s me and Wanda’s turn now guys. Of course Tony didn’t factor in age differenceswhen he started this game. Or the fact that I have a wife!” My best friend’s eyes arefocused on me now, a playfully caring glint in his eyes. “Be safe kids.” They leave us andshut the door behind them.

 The sexy Sokovian behind me chuckles, breath tickling my neck. I look up at him and,see a mischievous look in his eyes. My own squint in suspicion, “What are you thinking?”The quick smirk is all the warning I have before I am swept off of my feet. 

My whole world blurs in an instant and I tuck my face into Pietro’s neck to steadymyself. In just a few more seconds, we stop and he slowly lowers me to the ground.When my vision clears, I look to my surroundings. Standing in a room which I can onlyassume is Pietro’s, I find myself becoming quickly and incredibly aroused.

 

His voice rumbles from just behind me.  “Должны ли мы закончить то, что начали?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Принцесса (printsessa) - Princess 
> 
> Ты не представляешь, как я хочу тебя, принцесса. (Ty ne predstavlyayesh', kak ya khochu tebya, printsessa.) -  
> You have no idea how much I want you, Princess. 
> 
> Должны ли мы закончить то, что начали? (Dolzhny li my zakonchit' to, chto nachali?) - Shall we finish what we started?


	4. You Don't Have to be a Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is around 4-5 inches shorter than Bucky and between 28-32 years old. She's incredibly caring and feels for Bucky even if she doesn't always know how to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's chapter is still my favorite, even if it is the most sappy. I really enjoyed writing this chapter ^_^

I search through the bag, feeling several items that are pretty easy to guess their owners. Sunglasses, the custom pair that Tony gave Pietro for his birthday (ridiculous really. I told Stark that he didn’t need a two hundred dollar pair of sunglasses). Something sharp, arrowhead maybe? Something rubbery. Probably Tony.

Finally, I settle on a small metal coin-shaped item. Upon pulling it out of the bag, I see that it is indeed a coin from… the 1920’s? My childlike hope suddenly turns to intense anxiety. This can only be Steve, or…

“Looks like you’re up Buck.” Steve smiles reassuringly at his friend. Bucky just stares at me with a blank look, then stands up and walks to the closet. Tony clears his throat, “Right well, try to have fun with Frosty the Snow Soldier, (Y/N).” Tony doesn’t shove me to the closet, but I catch a look from Steve that’s both worrying and encouraging before entering the small space.

The room is only dimly lit, but I don’t need to see to know that Bucky is in the corner staring a hole into my head. “Sooooo… Bucky?” I say softly with a questioning voice. It’s difficult to feel entirely at ease around Bucky, even if I was able to calm him the first time he was triggered around me. That may have been over two months ago, but something could set him off at the drop of a hat.

His voice is quiet, but without a hint of harshness that I’d heard him speak with in company. “Sam said that the point of this game was for teenagers to ‘get some.’” I can’t say I was expecting that, and I definitely wasn’t expecting the smug smirk that crossed his face afterwards. It quickly disappeared, however, and his stony expression returned. Despite the stern look on his face, Bucky’s eyes were still sparkling with humor, if only a little.

“Right, well, teenagers huh?” A strained laugh forces its way from my lungs. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, looking down at my hands instead of at him. I almost jump out of my skin when I feel cold metal on my arm, and looking up, his face is only inches from mine. Bucky seems to notice my reaction. Immediately, he pulls his hand away from me. “Sorry.” He mutters out quietly, turning. I catch the sad look on his face as he does.

_No wait, please…_ I can’t bring myself to say anything, so instead I reach for him. My small fingers lightly brush his metal ones. Grey blue eyes turn to hold my own in a locked gaze. “I didn’t mean to startle you, or hurt you in any way.” Sadness turns his slate blue gaze dull.

I let out a slightly shaky breath, “James, I know you would never meaningfully hurt me. Or Steve for that matter. That person isn’t who you are.” Our fingers become intertwined, and his brow furrows, “Maybe I am. I’m not the person that Steve remembers, and you hardly know me.” His other hand lifts to caress my cheek, and his thumb briefly touches my bottom lip, “I used to think I would take a bullet for my friends. Turns out I was the one behind the trigger.”

In a slightly bold move, I release his hand and run my hand up his metal arm. He tenses, but doesn't move as I brush them lightly all the way up until I’m touching his stubbled cheek. Bucky leans into my gentle touch, letting out a hushed sigh. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, are a good person. Not just a weapon. Not a gun to be used. You have the power to decide what kind of person _you_ want to be.”

Our faces are so close when I say it. His breath intermingles with my own, lips so close they could just…

And then he kisses me. It’s soft, and doesn’t last for more than a few seconds. It’s enough to make me want more. I like this Bucky, even if we both aren’t quite sure who this Bucky is yet. When he pulls back, our foreheads just barely rest against each other.

A sly smile crosses his face, “You are… идеально.” My eyes flick up to his for a brief moment, searching for any sign of the Soldier, but it’s just him, “Perfect.” He whispers softly, pressing his lips to mine again. The metal of his arm is cool even through my shirt as he wraps it around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

There is a gentleness in his touch that I’ve never experienced with anyone else. Even after all the horrible things he’s seen and done, the excruciating physical and mental pain he was subjected to. His lips are slightly chapped against mine. Tender and sweet. Fingers tangle in his long brown hair. The kiss intensifies, passionate and demanding, but still full of quiet affection.

When we finally break away, he raises both of his hands to my face lifting my gaze to his once more. “Perhaps the old me would have said something clever, but… I think I’ll just say it.” His blue eyes are far less worried now, his body less tense than before. “I care about you. A lot. And I’m not quite sure what to do with that yet.”

I offer him a lovely smile, “We can figure it out. If you want to.”

“I do.”

Tony caught us in a kiss of course, and we returned to the game, this time sitting side by side, fingers brushing each other with quick glances. Much later that night Bucky visited my room with a soft knock. _Just a nightmare,_ he had said. _You can stay, James._ And he did. He did the same the next night, and has stayed there every night since.

 

And I’ve never been so thankful for one of Tony’s stupid ideas.


	5. I'm Not Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this to be so angsty, I swear. It just sort of happened. It's also a bit shorter than I planned, but later chapters and all...  
> Also! I'm so sorry for the long absence! College is harder than I thought it would be...
> 
> Reader is has a shy, insecure personality, sometimes feeling less useful than the rest of the team. Though she doesn't show that side of herself with the group, Steve's past with Peggy brings out the self-doubt within her.  
> I pictured her about six inches shorter than Steve, and between 22-26 years old.

I let my fingers brush over several items before letting them settle on something cold and metal. Curious, I pull it out of the bag to see a pocket compass. I immediately recognize it as Steve’s, feeling a rush of my well hidden self-doubt. Steve and I may be good friends, but the implications of this game may make things awkward between us.

“Well, looks like you’ve been chosen Capsicle!” Tony grins like an idiot, both at me, and at Steve who has raised his head. When he catches sight of me staring at him with the compass in my hand, his face turns a very light shade of red. It's adorable really. On the field, Steve is confident, commanding, and an amazing leader. And me? I'm just crowd control, tossing enemies around with my telekinesis and keeping them off of the team's flank.

I stand first, my gaze still lingering on him before I shrug and gesture towards the closet like my heart isn't racing with anxiety. As we walk towards the closet, Steve following right behind me, I hear Tony shout out, "Get it Grandpa!" Followed quickly by an "Ouch!" Finally, somebody punched him. 

When the door shuts behind us, I shift on my feet uncomfortably. The room is tiny, and Steve is a pretty large, muscular man. He takes up almost half of the small space. “Oh, here,” I hold out his compass to him, “This is yours…” In the dim lighting, I can feel his eyes on me, but he takes the compass as I hand it to him. Briefly, his fingers brush mine, blue eyes flicking up to mine at the contact. “Thanks.”

Everyone who’s seen the documentary in school knows about the picture of Peggy inside that compass. Peggy, who created SHIELD and directed it for years. Peggy, who made something amazing of her life in an age where women just couldn't. Peggy, the girl that Steve loved and lost when he crashed that plane. Peggy, the old woman who passed away not but a few months ago. 

I can’t help but feel a little small in comparison. Even with everything we’ve been through together, Steve could never love me after a woman like her. I suddenly feel the powerful urge to escape and curl up in a corner somewhere. Alone.

Silently, I watch him rub his thumb over the golden casing of the compass sadly. My heart hurts, in that way that it does every time I'm around him. I can't compete with that kind of love, or that devotion. Peggy was larger than life, and Steve deserves better than a mutant school throwaway. It's difficult to bare, and though I don't really know what to say, I speak up anyway.

“Steve?” His baby blue eyes glint as they catch my gaze once more. “If you just want to talk, I don’t mind listening.” A sweet smile crosses his face.

“I know. You just seemed like someone I could trust, even when we first met.” I grin, rolling my eyes playfully at the memory of our meeting. Steve was the last person I introduced myself to, as he had been on a three week mission when I was recruited, and I had embarrassed myself pretty spectacularly. 

It started when a harmless game of “Agent” (basically hide and seek for grown adults) with Clint led me into the ceiling vents. I may have accidentally fallen through the ceiling onto a half naked Steve as I was crawling through the vent system above his room. I was so embarrassed I thought I might burst into flames. Somehow, even with my peculiar introduction, I managed to make a good impression on Steve, and we became fast friends.

Steve must have been thinking of the same thing, because he chuckles under his breath. “I mean it! Ever since…” His breath catches suddenly and he looks down at the compass, and I know what he was about to say. I always know when he's about to talk about her...

Again, I feel a pang of intense insecurity. Reaching out, I gently grasp Steve’s arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m sorry Steve. I wish there was something I could do or say to make you feel better, but… I’m not her…”

His striking blue eyes snap up to mine, “(Y/N)...” A hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, and his hand rests on my cheek. “Is that really what you think?” Steve question hangs in the air as I struggle to find my voice. He smiles softly at me, his eyes crinkling slightly. God do I love his smile.

Then his eyes flick down to my lips, and the attention makes me quite suddenly quite aware of just how close we are to each other. How easy would it be to just reach up and…

His lips are gentle against mine, barely the ghost of a kiss before he pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes, like he has to be sure that I’m alright with this. “You are…” Steve lets out a breathy groan as he pulls me to him once more, his hand tangling in my hair. He’s backed me against the wall, his defined body pressing against me so perfectly as he deepens the kiss. It’s not quite demanding, but needy, begging. He draws a moan from my lungs.

My hands move of their own accord, one at the nape of his neck, the other resting on his amazingly muscular chest. The kiss is desperate now, so many feelings resting behind it. Closer… I need to be closer to him. His knee nudges my thighs apart, lifting up slightly and creating friction exactly where I crave it. I can't help but release another needy moan. My hand from his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer still. And then his other hand comes to rest on my waist, still holding that compass.

And that cold metal reminds me of who I am, and who I can never be for him. I pull away sharply, going against everything my heart and body so clearly want. “Not her.”

“(Y/N)...”

I push against him, leaving me suddenly slightly cooler as his warm body backs away from mine.“Steve, I can’t.” I direct my eyes anywhere but at him. I struggle to control the gathering storm of hopelessness in my mind, “I can’t replace Peggy.”

Slightly calloused fingers tip my chin up, “(Y/N),” Steve’s voice is so tender, sweet, and I finally look at him. “You are not a replacement. It’s possible to love more than one person in a lifetime.”

_Love?_

“We don’t have enough time left for me to explain to you what you mean to me. Not in here.” Steve presses one more delicate kiss to my nose. It's sweet, and leaves a blush on my face, “But if you want to grab a coffee with me tomorrow...”

A reluctant smile crosses my face. "Alright."


	6. My Next Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a serious klutz with both her body and her words, and is constantly tripping over either her sentences or her feet. She's around 25-27ish and a head shorter than Loki. The God of Mischief can be very convincing, and lets be honest, this reader is super into the dominance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... I got a bit carried away with this one. But I promise you will enjoy. It's longer than some of the other chapters. Because, Loki.  
> Consent is actually just a hit dubious, though trust me, I have serious plans for the follow up chapter and they are quite consensual. Cause, there might be a follow up chapter if I ever get around to it.  
> Also cursing. We're mostly adults here. Right? Sure.
> 
> And sorry for the delay, college and all. I am working still on this fic, and it will not be forgotten.

 

I rummage around the bag for about a minute before Tony sighs, "I know you're probably looking for mine. As much as you definitely want to get it on with me, that's not how the game works sweetheart." I mentally slap him with my telekinesis. "Ouch! I was kidding!" Tony rubs his face with his free hand, muttering a rather offensive curse under his breath. Steve chuckles and says, "Language!" While Natasha gasps jokingly, "Do you kiss Scott with that mouth?"

“Hey!” Scott shouts in irritation from behind the bar where he is making himself a drink. Tony just winks at Nat and smirks at me, “He likes it too.” Scott’s outraged voice could barely be heard over the laughter that erupted from the rest of the team. Well, except for Loki, who looks incredibly sexy even when he’s brooding. _What? No, Loki is not sexy. He’s a bad person with a bloody track record. You are not allowed to fantasize about that tall… handsome…_ I forcefully stop my train of thought before it can continue.

When the room finally calms down a bit, I put my hand back in the bag and grab the first thing my hand touches. Even before I pull it out of the bag, I can tell that it’s a bracelet. I wasn’t expecting it to be so ornate, and so obviously expensive with emeralds and a gold band. I hold it up with a grin, “Alright, who’s the beauty queen?”

“King actually.” Of course. This is exactly my luck. _This is what you get for fantasizing about a dangerous man._ My eyes are staring at the Asgardian in shock as he gracefully stands from his chair in the corner and glides towards me. When he reaches the couch where I’m sitting, Loki looks down his long nose strait into my eyes. “Well?”

His question jolts me out of my trance and I quickly stand from my place on the couch, slightly knocking into him. _Real nice, (Y/N). Real graceful._ I feel like a fumbling clusterfuck compared to Loki’s elegance.

“Oh, hell, I’m so sorry.” I hold his bracelet out to him. His surprisingly cold fingers brush mine gently as he takes it. “Will you two just get on with it?” Tony whines, earning a scowl from both me and Loki. Instead of fighting Tony, Loki simply looks back to me, gesturing towards the closet for me to go first.

As I begin walking, Loki falls in step right behind me, and I begin to feel very much like prey caught in a predator’s sight. My mind beings racing as we enter the closet, and I hear Loki shut the door behind us with a soft click. _Shit. Shit. Shit. This is actually happening._ My body turns towards him, trying to stay as far away from Loki as possible, which is not super effective considering the size of the tiny closet. He only stands about four feet away from me, though I can barely see him in the dark space.

His voice breaks the silence first, “How about a bit of light?” His sultry voice flows over me, and I let out a quiet, involuntary sigh. In his hands, a small ball of pale green light appears, dimly glowing as he lifts the light into the air just above us. I hold my breath, the quiet between us only interrupted by a loud laugh from the next room, likely from Thor.

My eyes focus on the ball of light, my mouth slightly open in wonder as I question how such beautiful magic can come from such a seemingly evil source. When I look back at the God of Mischief, I catch him staring at me intently, his own blue eyes almost green in the dim glow.

His gaze becomes predatory, raking over my body slowly before rising up to my eyes once more. I feel my voice catch in my throat, because damn that look is doing a lot for me right now. “Loki, why are you looking at me like I’m your next victim?” It comes out jokingly, but as his eyes harden, I know it was not the right thing to say.

The next thing I know, he’s advancing towards me, and I stumble backwards over my own feet and hit the wall behind me hard. His unbelievably strong arms have my hands pinned helplessly to my sides, and I let out a quiet whimper. His lips fall to my ear as I turn my head away from him, “Can I not simply admire your beauty without some evil intent?”

_What? Wait… What?_ My head turns back so I can look at him. Loki’s eyes have softened again, gently glowing under his magic. Almost, tender. His grip on my arms has released and I feel his hands move to my hips. “Oh.” I state dumbly, and he smirks down at me, rubbing little circles into my waist with this thumbs. My eyes widen as I realize what’s actually going on.

**_“Oh.”_ ** I move my hands to his forearms, wrinkling his green button up a bit. “So wait, you actually think I’m pretty, as in like, like me pretty?” His head nods, and I watch as his gaze flits to my lips. _Kiss him. Kiss him._ Our lips are only inches away, and I part my own just a little and lean towards him on my toes. They are met with Loki’s own soft ones, pressing lightly back.  _Wait, why are you kissing him? You should be pushing him away, getting out of there._ I choose to let these thoughts go as Loki's hands tighten around my waist.

I move one of my hands up to his hair, which is pulled back into a loose bun. My fingers work out the hair tie to let his hair fall to frame his face, and then tangle in the loose strands, pulling slightly. That apparently is a thing that he very much likes. His pushes me back harshly, flushed against the wall with his hard chest firm against mine.

The kiss becomes heated, forceful and almost desperate. He swallows the weak moans I release as his knee wedges between my thighs. One of his hands forcefully pins both of my wrists to the wall above me with a loud bang. The other wraps tightly around my waist, and I feel heated from the display of dominance. A loud moan escapes my lips as his own attach themselves to my neck.

Then a knock at the door takes the moment. Loki continues lavishing my neck with licks and kisses and scrapes of teeth as Bruce’s voice drifts through the door. “(Y/N)? Are you alright? It sounded like someone hit something.” The trickster at my throat makes it very hard to produce words in response.

“We’re… We’re fine Bruce. It’s all good!” My voice raises on the last word as Loki’s knee rubs a particularly sensitive spot. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” My voice is barely a whisper.

I can hear Bruce’s skepticism, “Well, okay. But just so you know, you’re about out of time and Tony’s gonna come barging in any second.” As if on cue, Tony throws open the door, revealing my very compromising position to the rest of the room. Tony reels back in surprise. “Whoa! Damn, (Y/N)!”

“Loki!” My voice but an urgent hiss. “Get us the hell out of here!” The God raises his eyes back to mine, and I barely catch his smirk as the world around me turns green, then black, then dim green again.

 

I find myself laying back on an unfamiliar bed with green satin sheets. _Oh, shit. Was this what I meant?_ My own heart is fluttering with uncertainty as I consider the situation. Lifting my head up, I see Loki shedding his unbuttoned shirt staring at me with that irresistible smirk and blue-green gaze. It falls to the floor, and in an instant, he has climbed up the bed and settled between my legs, his hands resting high on my thighs.

 

“Ready to be my next victim?”


	7. It's Not Really a Surprise Chapter if I've Done It Before...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the author finally got around to writing my chapter again. Honestly, she just cut out conversation with me that she created in the first place, and added a couple of funny bits that didn't involve me. I think the whole story should just be about me really, I'm Marvel's real sweetheart, just get rid of the others and skip right to the sexy bits where we don't talk about my avocado fa...  
> *Pushes Wade aside*  
> Sorry about taking so long with this, he's right though, I didn't actually change a whole lot of his chapter. I know it's been forever since my last post, but I really am busy with school right now. Luckily, finals are next week, and soon I'll be out for a three month summer! Maybe I'll even get around to posting more often, though I am also pretty invested in remaking my Hobbit fic that got deleted along with the rest of my files.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pushes Author aside*   
> So! The reader (that's you!) is a shorter-than-me smokin' hot babe with beautiful hair and a pair of tits to die for!  
> *Wade no*  
> Wade yes! Anyway, you're totally in love with me from the start, but you don't show it because I am a lovable asshole most of the time, and you're afraid that I could never have real feelings for you. You're totally sweet though because you accept my horror movie face in a way nobody else can. And you're totally open to sexy sex, even though you deny it. You're a total smart ass, but I love a challenge!

As soon as my hand touches the bag, I hear a loud SMACK! I wrench my hand back from the bag and look around for the cause of the noise. As soon as I see him, I sigh. "Damnit Wade. Why can't you ever just use the fucking door?" Everyone in the room is staring at the window, where my old... is friend the right word?... Sure, what the hell. My old friend Wade Wilson, AKA Deadpool, has slammed against the window like an insect on a windshield, leaving the glass a bloody mess.

"What the hell is he doing here?!" Clint groans. "He called me earlier and said he was lonely, so I told him to drop by for the party. Of course, I didn't mean literally..." I explain while rubbing the back of my neck. Wade’s blood runs down the window behind me and I hear him making lewd noises through the glass as he sticks there. "WHY?!" Tony shouts in irritation.

"Why would you invite him to anything?!" I glare at him, “Wade may be a manic mercenary, but he is still a person, and he's my friend. Friends look out for each other.” I start walking to the landing pad so I can use my telekinesis to scrape the mutant off of the windows. I hear Tony still ranting, “I just had my windows cleaned!"

I finally get Wade over to the landing pad and start popping his bones back into the right place so that they can heal a little faster. Suddenly, his arm snaps up to grab me and pull me down on top of him, getting blood all over my hoodie.

"Hey, (Y/N)! It's so good to see you again! Did you miss me? Ah, what am I saying? OF COURSE YOU DID!" I struggle under his grip and his other shoulder lets off a loud pop as it shifts back into its proper place. I take his brief moment of pain to slip out from his iron grip. "Wade, next time use the fucking door. How did you even get up there?"

Wade sits up on his side _(Paint me like one of your French girls.)_ and looks at me through the white eye slits. "Well, I first got the idea from constantly stalking Parker..."

-In the Lounge-

"Who is that?" Thor asks as the man in the read suit makes wild arm gestures and crazy noises. Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. "That's Deadpool, but you'll come to know him as the most annoying person on the planet." Pietro chuckles, "And that is saying something, considering that I am also on this planet."

Bruce just lets out an uncomfortable huff, and stands up, "I think I'm done for the night. If I have to be in the same room as him, I might let the other guy loose just to shut him up for a few minutes." For once, Tony doesn't even try to make a sarcastic comment, still frustrated about his bloodied windows. "No judgment here."

-Back to Deadpool-

"And so I knew you'd use your brain magic to get me over here!" Wade finished his story, waggling the part of his face that I think might be his eyebrows. "It's called telekinesis, Wade..." "Brain magic sounds way cooler. So whatchya guys doin'? Something fun? Dangerous? Both?" I stand up, offering him a hand, which he takes and almost pulls me over again as he stands.

"Well, we were having a drinking party, but Tony had the brilliant idea to play seven minutes in heaven." His hands slap the sides of his face in mock surprise. "OH MY GOSH! And you totally called me because you wanted to be stuck in the closet with me!"

"But... you called me..."

He grabs my hand and races for the couch as fast as he possibly can, almost knocking Steve to the ground as he throws himself into the seat. With me on top of him. I quickly get off of him, and sit on the ground next to the couch instead. "So, Wade is going to join us for the game. I'm sure you all only mind a lot." Tony just grumbles in irritation before throwing the bag at Wade. "Just put your damn item in, it's not like you're going to get picked anyway."

As Wade is putting his item in, I look at Tony. "Hey, did you fix the A/C in my room yet?" Tony sighs, "I've kind of been working on Hotrod. He's been flying off balance, ever since the incident in Queens. I still can't get the webbing out of his system." I roll my eyes, "I haven't slept in my room in days because it's too hot Tony, please fix it soon."

Wade clears his throat. "If you lovelies are done with your oh so interesting conversation, I put my item in there."

Tony glares at him, but shakes the bag and once again offers it to me. Finally ready to continue, I reach in and move my hand around. Weird... all of the items feel the same... I pull one out, and see a belt buckle with Wade's insignia on it.

Of. Freaking. Course. "This must be your lucky day!" Wade shouts happily, smiling at me through the red of his suit mask. I feel my face heat up and I pinch my nose in irritation. "Of all of the items in there, I just had to choose yours."

Wade stands up, offering me an arm with an over exaggerated gesture. "Shall we m'lady?" I sigh and hook my arm though his. As soon as I touch his arm, he is dragging me to the closet as fast as he can. He slams the door behind us and I immediately push him away and put my hands up between us, making him whimper like a kicked puppy. "No, no, no. Ground rules first." He throws his head back against the wall, groaning.

"First rule. No sexy sex in the closet." He groans louder.

"Second rule. No swords in the closet." *Frustrated moose noises*

"Third rule. No kissing though the mask." That shuts him up.

"Fine, then what are we gonna do? I can't take it off." I raise my eyebrow at his sudden and uncharacteristic seriousness. "Why not?" I could feel daggers in his white eyed glare. "You know perfectly well why." Of course I knew why, I just didn't think he would feel so self conscious about his scars around me. "Wade..." He turns away from me and crosses his arms in front of him.

"Wade, listen to me. I don't care what you look like. I don't give two shits about your scars." He looks over his shoulder, just barely allowing himself to look at me. "Because I can see through all of that to the real you. And though you can be a complete jackass the majority of the time, I think you're the most unique and wonderful person I've ever met."

He turns to face me completely, and I walk up to him. My right hand slides up his back, and I gently grasp the back of his mask, pulling it off slowly, deliberately. "And I love your eyes. They're like little rays of sunshine passing through a glass of whiskey."

Wade gives me a genuine smile. "Well, I think you're sweet, and pretty.” My cheeks flush a bit and I can't help but grin back at him, “And you've got a great ass, and a rack to die for." I scoff, smacking him on the forehead with the palm of my hand, but a smile is still on my face regardless of my efforts to look mad. "You're such and idiot."

"I'm also great at sex." He not-so-subtly winks at me, hooking my leg up with his right arm and grabbing my ass with the other. I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, "Just kiss me already you asshole." He presses his lips to mine, shoving me against the wall roughly.

My leg wraps around his waist as he slides his body between my legs, and the pressure makes me moan into the kiss. Wade holds me with one arm, moving the other to the buttons on my shirt. In record time, my shirt is unbuttoned and removed, and Wade's hand move back down and between my legs. Wade's smug voice echoes in my head.

"I think we're about to break rule number one... And definitely number two." _(You're skipping the best part!!!)_ **Yes, I know. I'm not doing the smut chapters yet. Be happy that you got an allusion to a sex scene. Ungrateful...**

-In the Lounge-

A loud banging noise resounds throughout the lounge area. Over. And over. Tony pats his legs once and grabs the bag. "Well, who wants to go next?" When nobody volunteers, he shrugs and reaches into the bag himself. "What the shit...?" He says as he pulls out another of Deadpool's belt buckles. "Wait a minute..." He dumps the bag on the ground. Every single item was an identical belt buckle with Deadpool’s face on it.

…

“Does he just carry these around with him?”


	8. Bird of Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is best friends with Clint, and has liked him for a long time. However, she is afraid to take it further for fear of ruining the friendship they have. Situations are situational, and you have to take advantage of the situation when the situation arises. AKA Reader overthinks situations all the time, and usually thinks about the worst outcomes.  
> Reader is four inches shorter than Jeremy Renner (5'5") and super outgoing around her friends. She teases Barton constantly and they are always getting up to trouble when they are together. Also, Clint is like, what? 39-42 years old? Yeah I'm gonna go with that. So reader is between 34-39, which is a bit older then I usually go with my characters.

I prick my finger on something sharp, letting out a hiss of pain and irritation. _Who puts sharp items in bag that people are going to be shoving their hands into?_ I glance over at the Trickster, thinking that might be something he would do just to be an ass. However, from the way he’s huddled in the corner of the room with a book, it’s not likely he even put an item in.

My curious nature gets the better of me, and I pull the pointy object out of the bag. A shiny steel arrowhead is produced from the mystery bag, and I immediately scowl playfully at my best friend, “Really Clint? I almost cut my hand open you ass.” I toss it towards him as he swallows his drink, setting down the glass as he catches the arrowhead delicately.

I could have sworn I saw a flash of genuine surprise on his face, he must not have expected that I would choose his out of all the items. He smiles at me when it fades. Not like we won’t be able to have fun anyway, even if we are only friends.

Before he walks towards me, Natasha grabs his arm and pulls him down, seemingly to kiss his cheek. A fierce wave of jealously hits me out of nowhere, and only worsens when I hear him chuckle before he starts walking towards me. "Shall we?" Clint asks, gesturing towards the closet door. I stand up and walk with him, my shoulder just below his.

As soon as he closes the door behind us, I feel suddenly, and unreasonably, very nervous. I'm trapped in the closet with my best friend, who I’ve spent all of my free time with since the moment I joined the Avengers. My best friend… who has no idea that I’ve been crushing hard on him for just as long. Even though I'm pretty sure he likes Natasha. I suddenly don't feel like a bad ass X-Man anymore...

I lean my back against the wall, trying to brush off all of these nervous feelings and regain my cool. This is Clint I’m talking about, I shouldn’t be nervous at all. He leans next to me, and I'm very thankful that it's dark in here so he can't seem my ridiculous blushing.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" He asks suddenly, breaking the silence that surrounds us. I grin, giving him a sideways glance. "You don't want to get caught up in my mind Clint. It's a minefield in there." He answers with a deep chuckle that completely fills the tiny room. "(Y/N), please. I'm an agent of Shield. I navigate minefields all the time, I think I can handle yours." I giggle awkwardly, knowing I can't really tell him what's actually on my mind. If I was honest with him, it could ruin our perfect friendship. I’d rather have Clint as a friend then not have him at all.

"What about that crush of yours that you've been trying to pretend you don't have?" All the air in my lungs suddenly just disappears. I hesitate before choking out the words, my voice cracking in sheer, nervous panic. "W-what! I don't have a crush on anyone!" he shoves me sideways playfully, and I almost fall over.

I regain my balance and hear Clint say, "You can't hide things from me, (Y/N). I've known you for years.” _Oh shit, oh shit. This is the end, he’s going to reject me before I can even explain. Goodbye to this friendship forever._

“So who is it?" Wait... rewind. He doesn't know that it's him? I think through the situation, my panic declining slowly. "I still don't know what you're talking about." I had to lie, just to see if what I just heard was correct.  _Maybe this situation is salvageable. Maybe I can admit my feelings without giving them away entirely._  He glares at me from the corner of his eye. "Now you're just being difficult. I’ve known you’ve had a crush on someone for a while, and I just want to make sure they're good enough for my best friend."

 _Friend._ Any shred of hope I might have had with turning this situation in my favor evaporated.

I feel a flash of anger in my mind. He just friend zoned me without even knowing it! At least, I don't think he knows it. Confidence born of irritation overwhelms me, and I just have to mess with him for some payback.

Sighing in mock resignation, I mumble a name under my breath. To my right, I can feel Clint immediately tense. "What did you just say?" His voice is low when he speaks. Almost... angry? I groan and say loudly, "I said it's Tony, you nosy bastard!"

My breath is knocked out of me as he reacts. He's pushed me roughly up against the wall I've been leaning against, his face a breath away from my own. His voice is a growl as he stares harshly into my eyes. "Really? Tony?! I can't believe you, (Y/N)." Well, this was not the reaction I was expecting...

"I could have accepted that I'd lost you to Steve, or Bruce. Hell, even Scott would have been better than him." Clint's ice blue eyes glare into mine, "I spend almost all of my down time with you, and think about you when were not together. No way am I letting that bastard take what's mine."

Any reaction I might have had to **that** was quickly done away with as he captured my lips in a rough and desperate kiss. It was demanding, merciless. My body reacted before my brain really caught up, and I started kissing him back with just as much desperation, just as much ferocity, and it spurred him on even more. Before I know it, we're 

His knee pushed between my legs, and slightly lifted me off of the ground so just my toes were touching. I felt his hand slide beneath my button up shirt, brushing against my bare waist and slowly creeping higher. His knee is doing all kinds of things to all the right places, and he hits something that makes me gasp, breaking the kiss. My hands started grasping anything they could, and settled for his hair and shoulder. Lips are immediately on my neck, his course stubble dragging so deliciously along the sensitive pulse point. He sucks a mark into my neck that I sincerely doubt I’ll be able to hide later.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he leans back just enough for me to get a good look at his face. He is entirely focused on my reaction to what he just did, a bead of sweat beading on his temple. I grin at him, giggling. I feel short of breath as I answer his unspoken question. "Wow... I must say Clint, I wish I had messed with you sooner." Clint's eyebrows knit together, and I place my hands on either side of his face, cradling his cheeks with my soft fingers. "I was kidding about Tony, I honestly can't stand the guy." I say seriously, smiling happily at him.

Clint's expression softens, relief seeming to wash over him. I kiss him lightly on his nose. "All this time, it's always been you I've had a crush on. I thought you liked Nat though, and only liked me as a friend." I look away in embarrassment, "I was a little jealous when she kissed your cheek earlier..." He looks at me questioningly, before realization comes over his face and he laughs. "She didn't kiss me, she was telling me to stop bullshitting and just ask you out." He wraps his hands around my waist loosely. "Trust me, (Y/N). I like you, and only you."

"Good." I pull him towards me again, kissing him with all of the feelings I've been holding back for years. I don't even notice the door open on the opposite side of the closet. Someone clears their throat, and the two of us jump in surprise. Bucky and Natasha stand in the doorway. Nat smirks at me while Bucky just stands there looking like he's trying not to laugh hysterically. I hear Tony cat call from the lounge, "Nice hickey, (Y/N)!" I feel my cheeks flush.

"I see you took my advice." Tasha tells Clint with a smug look on her face. "I'll admit, it did help." The archer next to me says, chuckling. His arm pulls me closer, and I smile to myself, placing my own around his waist. "So Nat, I guess you drew Bucky's item?”

The assassin grins wickedly, "What can I say? The guy always seems to end up with his head between my legs." Bucky chuckles and wraps his arm around Nat's shoulder, "We should get to it then doll." She chuckles, saying in an over-exaggerated Brooklyn accent, "Oh! You're so good ta me." My mind just tries to keep up with _that_ situation without exploding.

Clint and I start walking back to the couches, when he suddenly adjusts his course, pulling me right along with him. His new course is towards the elevator. "Um... Clint? The party is back that way..." A startled yelp escapes my throat as he picks me up bridal style. "I know sweetheart. But my bedroom is this way, and I’ve got to take advantage of our situation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any grammar mistakes. I wrote this after getting some hella cute nails, which are, unsurprisingly, no good for typing.
> 
> This is the last chapter from the previous version, which I have taken down. I really, really need to do Tony's story next cause it's long overdue. However, I've accepted that I am complete shit at updates and so it will probably take a while to fight through my chronic writer's block. Also I really like the Nat/Bucky pairing, like a lot (sorry to the Nat/Bruce fans). So, we may see more of them in the background of the coming chapters.
> 
> I really do appreciate the patience of my readers and promise that this story isn't ending anytime soon, as I still have so many characters I want to write. Also, I love reading your comments, and often they give me confidence to write more! So I will continue to update whenever I feel inspired, or when I get a nice confidence boost, whichever comes first!


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